


Looking Like Daddy

by DracoMaleficium



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Dadko, Fluff, Gen, How do you parent, Humor, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoMaleficium/pseuds/DracoMaleficium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko's daughter experiments with art and Zuko doesn't quite know what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Like Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [the-dancing-dragons](http://the-dancing-dragons.tumblr.com), whose lovely headcanon inspired me to write this little quickie. Zuko's daughter's name comes from one of my other fics - I'll change it once canon graciously gives us the real one. The dragon's name, on the other hand, is also stolen from the-dancing-dragons - she mentioned it in chat one day and it's just too adorable not to use. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s not that she stole the paints. She only borrowed them, fully intending to give them back when she’s finished. Besides, she _is_ the princess, and doesn’t that mean that everything in the palace belongs to her? Daddy keeps telling her that it doesn’t quite work like that and Mommy tells her not to be a brat, but since they haven’t actually explained how it _does_ work, Ziyi doesn’t feel all that bad for breaking into the Lady Hung’s supply cabinet.

She is so sneaky, too, just like Daddy teaches her sometimes. He’s bound to be proud of her.

It’s hard to see properly in the dusty, cramped old broom closet she’s hidden in, but at least the little skylight gives her enough light to see her reflection in the little mirror. The paint dries quickly, pulling at the skin of her face in a way that feels pretty funny, but it doesn’t look right, so Ziyi applies more and more of it until she’s satisfied. Quietly, she wishes Bumi and Kya were here to help her, or maybe even Lin, though Lin is crap at painting (Ziyi revels in the freedom of thinking bad words like “crap,” which she doesn’t dare to do when her parents are around). But Lady Hung always praises her drawings and Uncle Sokka says she’s an even better artist than he is, so Ziyi is confident she can do a good job on her own. 

There’s a bit too much red, so she adds whites and pinks (which she’s had to make herself) until it looks better. She doesn’t know how to create that funny texture yet, so this will have to do for now. Ziyi tries not to smile because that will screw up the paint, but she’s giddy, and soon starts pacing impatiently up and down the closet waiting for her latest masterpiece to dry.

She can’t wait to show Daddy.

Finally, the paint no longer smears when she touches it and the left side of her face feels like that one time when she accidentally dried the mud Bumi threw at her on her face, and Ziyi deems herself ready. She gathers the paints, the dirty brushes and the mirror, stuffs all of it into her little bag and peers out of the closet, then dashes out and down the corridor to the turtleduck pond, excitement bubbling up in her as though she was a festival lantern. 

Just as she predicts, Daddy is in the garden with Uncle Guard Captain, talking about something boring. Mrs. Teapot is sitting on Dad’s shoulders, swatting at something as she often does, and her long tail is coiled around Dad’s neck. She perks up when she senses Ziyi and starts chirping, her pretty eyes going huge, and this is when Ziyi calls out to them loudly, waves, then starts running across the grass. Uncle Guard Captain makes that funny face of his when he does the thing with the eyebrows, then pats Daddy on the shoulder and tells him to look around just as Ziyi catches up to them.

She looks up at both of them expectantly, rocking on her heels, the paint feeling like it’s about to crack under the pressure of her huge grin. “Well?” she prompts impatiently when Daddy just stands there and stares at her. “What do you think, Daddy? Now I look like you!”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it, sir,” Uncle Guard Captain says quickly. Ziyi is somewhat disappointed – she was hoping he would compliment her art skills. Still, he pats her on the head and ruffles her hair as he leaves, so it’s all right.

Daddy still isn’t saying anything, though, and Ziyi is beginning to feel she’s done something wrong.

“If it’s about the paints, I’ll give them back to Lady Hung, I promise,” she assures him quickly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “She probably didn’t even notice they’re gone. Uh, Dad?”

He kneels on the grass before her, Mrs. Teapot slinking away from his shoulders and into the grass, where she begins to hunt for insects. Now that their faces are level, Ziyi realizes that Daddy’s eyes look – strange.

“Ziyi, why would you _do_ that?” he asks quietly. He takes her face in his big, warm hands, too, thumb rubbing across the dried paint on her left cheek. Ziyi smiles again. She loves Daddy’s hands.

“I wanted to look like you,” she explains. Really, that should be obvious, and Ziyi thinks quietly that Mom is right: Dad often isn’t very bright. 

“But – _why_?”

“Because you’re the best,” she informs him, reaching out to cup his face just like he’s doing with hers. “Duh. Why wouldn’t I want to look like you?”

Dad’s face does something strange. Ziyi doesn’t know what to make of it when he looks down, biting his lip and scrunching up his forehead like he does when he’s arguing with Mom, and starts blinking. He takes a few deep breaths, too, and Ziyi waits patiently. Her Dad is a special man and he can be a little strange sometimes, especially when people say nice things to him, but that’s all right. Ziyi loves him very much and she’s ready to wait out the strange. 

“Ziyi, that’s not – “ he tries eventually, glancing up at her. “That’s not a – the scar, Ziyi, it’s not a good thing.”

Ziyi cocks her head to the side, unimpressed. “But they call you Dragoneye,” she points out logically. “That’s cool. Your eye here looks like Mrs. Teapot’s. And it makes you look badass – I mean, strong and scary. I didn’t say badass, Bumi says that, and Auntie Toph too but Lady Hung says it’s a bad word so sorry, I won’t say it again.”

Her Dad breaks a little at that and is starting to smile. Encouraged, Ziyi goes on. “And I like it,” she says, running her fingers across the funny skin on Dad’s left cheek. Daddy closes his eyes and lets her map out the entire surface of the scar, which she does eagerly. “It feels strange, but nice. Special. It’s you.”

“You do know what a scar is, don’t you?” Dad asks quietly. His eyes are still closed under Ziyi’s roaming hands. “They’re burns. They’re not supposed to feel nice.”

He’s trying to say _Don’t get any ideas_. Ziyi knows that tone and grins. “I know, I know,” she assures him. “So will you tell me how you got it?”

Dad sighs. “One day,” he promises, opening his eyes and catching her hands in his. “It’s not a nice story.”

Ziyi nods and makes a mental note to ask again tomorrow at bedtime. It does qualify as “one day,” after all.

“But first,” Daddy says, straightening up and opening his arms for her, “we’ll get your face washed.”

“Daaaad,” Ziyi whines, but lets him pick her up and clings to his neck eagerly. Mrs. Teapot scurries towards them immediately and climbs up Dad’s legs to claim his shoulders again – Ziyi pats her scaly head when Daddy carries them both inside the palace. 

“But I did well, didn’t I?” she asks on principle. “I painted it nicely?”

“Your face is a mess, young lady,” Daddy murmurs, jostling her a little. Ziyi giggles and holds on. “But a very artistic mess,” he adds as if he can’t stop himself.

Ziyi grins and plants a kiss on his cheek. She’s already making plans to paint arrows on their heads when Bumi and Kya and little Tenzin come visiting again.


End file.
